


Opal

by SophieRipley



Series: Fictober 2016 [3]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fictober 2016, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieRipley/pseuds/SophieRipley
Summary: Nick has carried around an opal ring for twenty years, the last thing he has left of his mother.  The time comes to pass it on to a new caretaker.





	

When Nick was seven years old, he noticed while playing on his mother’s lap a curious pale stone on her finger.  Set in a gold band, the oval stone was translucent, a play of color from green to violet drifting holographically  across its surface and through its depths.  It caught his attention, so like any seven year old child Nick grabbed it.  Of course, it didn’t come away; he succeeded only in pulling his mother’s paw toward himself.

“Momma, what is it?”  His fingers brushed across the smooth surface of the stone, and he gazed into its depths.

Mom gently extricated her paw from his and pulled the ring off her finger, which she handed to Nick.  “It’s my wedding ring.  Your father gave this to me many years ago when he decided to marry me.”

Nick peered deeper into the stone, entranced by its beauty.  “What kind of ring?”

“You mean the stone?”  When Nick nodded, Mom smiled at him.  “It’s an opal.  They’re supposed to make you more creative and help you remember things.”

“Pretty.”  His mother agreed with his assessment of the stone’s attractiveness. 

That moment had stuck with Nick.  When his mother died when Nick was twelve, he claimed the ring as his own.  It wasn’t difficult, as he was an only child, and nobody challenged him about it.  For the next twenty years, he’d wear the ring on a chain around his neck.  He never showed it to anyone and never spoke about it, but it remained there under his loud shirts, inspiring him and shaming him in equal measure.  Inspiring because of what his mom had said about opals, and shaming because his mother had always wanted so much more for Nick than hustling on the street.

He was thirty-two when he met the woman who would change his life.  When Judy Hopps, first bunny cop, blackmailed him into helping her on her first real case.  Nick had of course resisted her all the way, hoping to inconvenience her as much as possible.  Why wouldn’t he?  She’d _blackmailed_ him.  She was just like all the rest, saw Nick as shady and untrustworthy.

But then things began to change.  She’d began to show her true colors.  And it became clear that she was as downtrodden as he, and her case was the one chance she had to realize her dreams.  Nick was her one lifeline, and he’d failed her.

In that moment in the Rainforest District as Judy was losing her badge, Nick felt the opal ring burn into his chest.  It inspired him to act.  To disregard his own safety and freedom and face down a buffalo twenty-five times his own weight with a confidence he didn’t feel, to give Judy the last ten hours she rightfully deserved.  The opal inspired him to give Judy his real effort, his genuine self…something he’d never given anyone in twenty years.

They found the missing mammals.  It was a joint effort, his knowledge and quick thinking complementing her cleverness and determination.  And when it was over, when hope was finally in Nick’s paws in the form of a ZPD application form, Judy showed the other side of the coin that was her true self.  The bigotry.  The hidden bias.  She wasn’t biased against _Nick_.  No no, she made that abundantly clear.  The words she uttered to him burned in his memory, would be tattooed into his mind forever:  “you’re not like them.”  You’re not _like them_.  A statement meant to ease his mind served only to fuel his anger.  Of course Nick was _like them_.  He had just as strong a prey drive as any other predator, and much stronger than some.  Didn’t Judy _know_ that young foxes had to be trained out of pouncing behaviors?  Didn’t she _know_ that foxes had such a strong drive to pounce on small sounds under the grass and snow that it drove many to smoke or drink to distract themselves from it?

Of course she didn’t.  She was just a dumb hick from Bunny Burrow.  She didn’t _deserve_ his friendship.  She didn’t _deserve_ his admiration.  She would never deserve the _love_ he felt bubbling up even after she fled the city.  At least, that’s what he kept telling himself during that very long three months.

Finnick understood, though.  Oh, he went on and on about how terrible that bigoted speciesist bunny was, how better off Nick was without her, loudly calling her out on the news feeds and telling Nick he was glad the bunny was gone.  But the desert fox meant none of it.  And Nick knew that.  Finnick wasn’t commiserating with Nick,  he was _yelling_ at him.  He was parroting back the same drivel Nick kept trying to convince himself, knowing that hearing it would drive Nick to understand how stupid it sounded.  How false.

It came to a head when Judy came back to the city and found Finnick.  Finn said she begged him to tell her where Nick was, and he’d told her.  And then Finn had called Nick, told him she was coming.  Gave him an ultimatum.  “Don’t you _dare_ forgive her, asshole.  She shat all over you, and she doesn’t deserve your respect.  Don’t you dare.”  When he heard those words, Nick’s blood ran hot and then cold.  He knew Finnick was really saying that Nick would never find someone he needed and deserved more, and he better not fuck it up.  Finnick knew he understood, and now Nick had a choice to make.

She came just as Finn said she would, bounding down the path to the dry patch of dirt under the bridge talking about toxic flowers.  And Nick was angry at her for daring to show her face here.  For daring to speak to him like nothing had happened.  And he was terribly sad too, because here she was and he hadn’t let go. 

He walked away from her.  She knew he hadn’t forgiven her then, and followed under the shadow of the bridge, begging him to help her.  She was clever:  she didn’t ask him to forgive her.  She specifically forgave _him_ for hating her, and told him it was okay.

Nick supposed that was the turning point.  All the while he clutched that gold opal ring and struggled to keep his tears from falling.  And when it was over, he knew the truth:  he didn’t need to forgive her.  He didn’t need to decide that the whole situation was stupid.  He didn’t need to come to terms with the fact that she was wrong, but was capable of change.  And the reason was very simple:

He already had.

That realization opened up worlds.  The most immediate of course was the conclusion of the savage attacks, wherein Nick risked his life for Judy and Judy risked her life for everyone.  But nine months later, Nick was graduating the police academy, realizing a life-long dream he’d forgotten he’d ever had.  Judy became his partner on his first day, and for the next two years they worked together.  It wasn’t all happy-go-lucky, of course. They were police officers, and as such they often found themselves in very difficult situations indeed.  They’d argued, even to the point of holding shouting matches, about the best way to handle the aftermath of a difficult case, they’d gotten so angry at one another over a misspoken or badly worded statement in a report that led to disciplinary action.  More than once Judy had thrown objects with the intent to hit Nick, and more than once Nick had lifted Judy bodily off the floor to make a point.

But through all that, they were friends.  Despite the apparent violence of their most severe disagreements, they’d never hurt each other.  They’d never misbehaved without apologizing, and they’d never failed to understand each other’s perspective after the fact. 

While they did have loud and tempestuous conflicts, the vast majority of the time showed them quite peaceful with each other.  They’d teased and harassed each other, launched weeks-long prank wars, but it was all in good fun.  Nick and Judy found themselves in the first year confiding in each other more than they’d ever confided in another mammal in their lives.  They gained a deep, intimate rapport that even the most destructive of fights or terrible of cases couldn't shake.

The decision to date was natural, and when they went—at Judy’s insistence—to inform Bogo of their relationship status, Bogo lost no time in telling them quite flatly that he thought they’d been dating for weeks already and if they had nothing _important_ to discuss get out of my office.

The decision to date served only to strengthen their relationship.  Friends they remained, and that added physical and emotional intimacy helped them to get through difficult situations that much more easily. 

Usually the pair spent “quality time” together after shifts on the way home, grabbing quick meals from fast food places or cooking simple dinners together.  They did have normal dates, on occasion, though.  Dinners at fancy restaurants, walks in Emerald View Park, films at the theater and marathons at home.

They were on one such normal date on their one year anniversary.  They’d known each other for two years to the day, and had been dating for one year to the day.  As a way to commemorate the occasion, Nick took her to a subdued dinner at their favorite restaurant, and afterward they walked the city, talking about nothing in particular.  Judy likely thought they were walking aimlessly, had made their way to the Rainforest District by happenstance, but Nick had a Plan.  Judy paid little attention to their surroundings, but Nick knew this place very well.  The well-lit platform a thousand feet high was familiar to him, burned into his memory.  The heavy patter of rain was a balm to his apprehension.  They were both soaking wet, but neither minded.

“So I had to tell her that she was in the wrong, right?”  Judy was prattling on about a conversation she’d had with one of her sisters.  “I mean, we’re bunnies.  I get it.  But you don’t just _ask_ something like that.”

“You know you answered the question though,” said Nick, opening the door to a skytram for Judy.  “What’d you say?”

She grinned sheepishly at him as she stepped onto the tram.  “I told her it fits, naturally.”  She went to the railing and leaned on it, her smile turning to one of humor.  “She wanted all the details.  Even asked how it felt to be tied.  Had to tell her it didn’t feel like much.  Just pressure.”

Nick chuckled and put his paws on the railing next to Judy.  He looked over at her and saw the realization pass across her face.

“Nick…”  She looked down at the long fall below them, then around the tram car.  “That was the tram platform.”  She looked up at him.  “The one where you defended me.”

“You noticed.”  Nick looked up at the stars above them, a gentle smile crossing his face.

“You planned this, didn’t you?  All that meandering was planned to bring us here.  Clever fox.”

He could see the sweet smile on her face as he looked at her without turning his head and it made his own spread wider.  Then, Nick reached under his shirt and pulled out a delicate beaded chain, which he took off entirely.  The opal glinted palely in the dim light of the tram car, the play of green to violet plain even in the darkness.  He’d never shown it to her, even after they started dating.  It had been too close to home, too much to share.

“This is my mom’s ring,” he said quietly as she peered at it.  “Dad gave it to her.  He had it made for her specially, knew a jeweler who owed him a favor.”

“It’s beautiful,” whispered Judy.

Nick nodded in agreement.  “The inside of the band has an inscription.  It took me ten years after she died to notice.  It says _‘You changed me forever’._ I don’t know what it meant to them.  I wish I did.”

“I’m sure it was important to them,” said Judy quietly.  She placed a paw on his wrist gently.  “Why didn’t you ever show this to me before?”

“It wasn’t the right time.”  Nick turned the ring over and over in his paws, still threaded onto the chain.  “When I lost my mom, I…well, I didn’t make her proud.  That’s for sure.  She never wanted me to do anything less than make a name for myself.  Follow my dreams.  And for twenty years I disappointed her memory.  I carried this ring around for twenty years, to remind myself how far I’d fallen.  How far I had to climb back up.”

Nick could hear Judy sniff.  Emotional that she was, she was trying not to cry.  Nick though wasn’t going to cry; he’d rehearsed this.  He knew the end.

“But then,” continued Nick, “three years ago to the day, I met a dumb bunny who decided it was smart to believe in a sly fox.  I was dreading the climb back to grace for so long, and it never occurred to me that someone might pull me back up.”  Damn all the gods if Nick wasn’t crying after all.  His voice broke on the last word and a pair of tears fell from his snout.

“I owe everything I have to you, Judy.  My mom would be proud of me, thanks to you.” 

She sniffed and her paw tightened on his wrist.  Nick crouched, bringing his face level with hers, and turned to face her.

“Three years ago today, you started to believe in me, right here.  You changed me forever.  Will you marry me, Judith Hopps?”  All pretense of holding back her tears fell away as Judy surged forward and embraced him tightly.  Her tears mingled with his own, and he returned the embrace just as tightly.

“Took you long enough,” murmured Judy into his neck.  “I thought I was going to have to do it myself.” 

Nick chuckled wetly and pulled away.  “Thank you for waiting.”

She smiled at him, then carefully drew the ring from his grasp.  It was plainly too big, but they would be able to fix that in due time.  For now, though, she slipped the chain over her head, and looked into the opal’s glimmering depths.  Green to violet and back again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for Fictober 2016, week three, under the prompt Opal. I hope this doesn't give any of you diabetes.


End file.
